


Boredom

by Traxits



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, One Shot, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, challengefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-04
Updated: 2010-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 17:19:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traxits/pseuds/Traxits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon finding himself in the Pearl, bored, Cailan is convinced to try something... a little different than his usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boredom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sagacious_rage](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sagacious_rage).



> Written for sagacious_rage's "Cailan Theirin: An Erotic Life" compilation. Fills the prompt: Cailan and Teagan head to a brothel, where Cailan has his first male/male experience.

He was _bored_. That couldn't be a good thing. Not since he was sitting idly in the middle of the finest brothel Denerim had to offer. Slender elven hands were sliding his boots from his feet, and he was watching, bemused, as a girl leaned down over his uncle, her breasts straining against the tightly laced bodice of her dress, threatening to spill right over. Teagan didn't seem to mind much, his hands on her hips, pulling her down onto him. She laughed, and then Cailan waved a hand with a sigh.

Sanga, the owner of the Pearl, let her hands rest on the king's shoulders, rubbing carefully. "Perhaps you are in need of a change of pace, your majesty?" She made her offer quietly, arching an eyebrow as the young man tilted back to look up at her. "I mean, it could be as simple as you need a different... flavor. Eat the same thing every day, and eventually you will tire of it, no?"

"I... suppose so." He frowned, uncertain of where she was going with this. He saw her nod to one of the girls, who disappeared out of the room. Watching her go, he leaned back a little more in the huge chair. It was worth coming to the Pearl, if only for their furniture. Not even the castle had luxuries like the brothel did, despite his begging and pleading and wheedling with Sanga to rectify that situation. She would only smile and tell him that if she sold him everything, he wouldn't come and visit her any longer.

Not that it was that far from the truth. If he _could _have managed it, he'd have bought Sanga out long ago and moved her entire operation into his castle. Would make diplomacy a lot easier with all the young men and women so eager to attend to everyone's ... pleasures.

The private room that he and Teagan were in filled in slowly with young men. Cailan had to admit, he'd never really _looked_ at most of them before, no matter how often he had seen them about. Some of them were actually quite fetching. His eyes roamed over them, and then he leaned back again to look up at Sanga. "You think--"

"Well, your majesty... Does a man not have lips as a woman? Does it not excite you to think of trying something so... different?" She had a small smile on her lips, one that said she already knew the answer. He was restless, bored in the middle of the finest brothel in Denerim. In Ferelden, even. He hesitated, casting a glance over toward Teagan.

It was his uncle's expression that sealed the deal for him. He was quite clearly devouring one of the elves standing before them with his eyes, never mind the fact that his hands were already on the girl on his lap. If _Teagan_ was looking at them with such hunger in his gaze, surely Cailan could manage it as well. He nodded slowly to Sanga, letting her knew that he was going to go through with it. Then he focused his attention on the young men in front of him.

Two humans and two elves, all clad in simple tunics and trousers; no shoes. He immediately dismissed the humans as being too large. He wanted someone smaller than him, someone that he could pull close, tuck under his shoulder. The elves were both attractive enough, he decided. Both possessed slight frames that revealed their bloodlines, since both of them also had hair long enough to cover their ears. As they stood in front of him, one of them reached up to tuck a lock of dark hair behind an ear, and Cailan's mouth went dry.

Something about the motion-- the flash of that slender wrist, the little _look_ that was shot toward him from beneath those thick lashes, the faintest trace of a smile on his narrow lips-- _something _caused a heat to race along the king's veins that he recognized, a familiar enough sensation if only foreign in its source. He tilted his head to the side a little, his eyes narrowing as he studied the elf. Then he raised a hand and motioned the other man closer.

As soon as the elf was in reach, Cailan touched his arm lightly, trailing calloused fingertips up the skin there. He hesitated for a moment, but as he looked up and saw the same desires crouched in the other man's eyes, he commited himself fully to it. He stood, and the elf drew him back out of the sitting area and into one of the more private chambers. Cailan couldn't stop the faint blush from Teagan's low whistle as the door shut.

He found himself against the door, the elf in front of him pressed against up, his lithe form wrapping itself around his own larger body. Cailan's eyes closed for a heartbeat as he trailed his hands down the other man's sides, _feeling_ the sheer difference in holding him instead of a woman. He wasn't as curvy for one, and where a woman would have been soft and giving, he was all wiry muscle, firm and sleek under the pads of the king's fingers. The blonde dipped his head down, capturing those narrow lips in his own,

The elf was more aggressive than any of the women he'd been with, Cailan realized, his hands sliding up to hold his companion by the shoulders. Slowly, the taste of the other man on his lips, the king drew back, opening his eyes as he did. He was holding his partner out at arm's length, and the elf looked quite put out at being so far away from him. A faint grin lit the blonde's face, and then he was pushing the elf back further, until the backs of his companion's legs caught the edge of the bed and he was sprawled out on the mattress under the king's invading forces.

Cailan was pushing his hands under the elf's tunic, his tongue lapping softly at a certain _spot_ on that throat where he could feel the other man's pulse, before something occured to him. Something important.

"What's your name?" he breathed over the unusual shape of his partner's ear. He couldn't resist the urge to trace the shell of that ear with his tongue, curious as to the feel of it. At his companion's shudder, he took it to be a good thing, and he continued his explorations, the very tip of his tongue lightly touching.

"L-Lindel, your majesty-- Oh!" Then Lindel's eyes were closing, and he was arching under his king's touch on one of his nipples, and through it all, Cailan was still marveling at the _differences_. He leaned back enough to peel both of their shirts off, one at a time, and simply tossed them. He didn't _care_ where they landed; he didn't want to stop. Slowly, he raked his fingers down and over his partner's torso, his eyes darkening with arousal at the elf's soft moan from the slight hint of fingernails that scratched over his skin.

Those slender hands were on Cailan's back then, and the king of Ferelden hid a smile as he was pulled down for another kiss. This time, he savored it, reaching up to touch the elf's face lightly as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He wanted to _taste_ him, to _know_ him. He wanted the full experience. The entire kiss, he kept his weight off of the other man by propping up on one of his elbows, only letting his hips rest against his companion's, which both men were rapidly appreciating. Still in their pants, they were both pressing against each other, and Cailan's head began to swim when he slid his thigh between his companion's and he felt _something_ pressing against him.

He pulled back from the kiss, dragging in deep breaths to calm himself. It wasn't that it upset him, far from it. If anything, he was shocked at his own _reaction_ to feeling the elf under him rubbing against him that way. A low growl rumbled from the king, and when Lindel looked up at him again from under those lashes, Cailan couldn't stand it, and he drew back enough to start peeling those trousers off. He wanted to _feel_ the other man against him; he wanted to see it for himself, see what he was doing to the elf.

Lindel was all too eager to comply, lifting his hips to aid his king in removing the last of his clothing. Then his slender fingers were at Cailan's own trousers, clearly practiced in the action. No matter how shyly he could look up at the blonde, he knew what _he_ was doing, Cailan realized, a little grin on his own face. He couldn't help but wonder if this was all a game for the elf, to see how mad he could drive his patrons.

If it was indeed a game, it was one that was played well. As soon as they were both unclothed, the elf scrabbled back, getting far enough up that his feet didn't hang off of the mattress before Cailan pounced, trapping the smaller body once again between his own and the blankets. Lindel grinned just slightly before his king leaned down to kiss him. One of Cailan's hands slid down the elf's side to caress his thigh, then to lift it just slightly, encouraging the other man to wrap that leg around him. When he could feel the elf hooking both of his feet together in the small of Cailan's back, the king pulled back from the kiss just enough to press a trail of little kisses down that slender throat.

His hand moved back up then, tweaking one nipple, catching it and rolling it between his fore-finger and thumb for a heartbeat before he rubbed it again. When a low moan vibrated out of his companion's chest, he growled himself before he purposely pressed their hips together. The sensation was unbelievable.

He had never imagined for a moment that the feel of another man, so hard and hot and _desperate_ under him would be this heady of a brew. As it was, he had only managed to lick the foam off of the top of the glass, and he was already almost drunk from the sensations firing along his nerves. At another shift of those elven hips, he was growling again, trying to _order_ the elf to be still, but no words escaped. Instead, he could only manage another jerk of his own hips, and then the elf was reaching back, scrabbling for something in one of the drawers near the bed.

A small vial glinted in the light, filled with a clear liquid of some sort that his companion immediately poured into one of those narrow hands. Cailan groaned at the feel of that hand against him, _wrapping_ and _squeezing_ and those _fingers_, by the Maker, he wasn't going to survive this. His hips surged forward again, and he forced his eyes open to look down at Lindel. The elf had a little grin on his face, and Cailan found himself entranced, watching as the other man rolled two fingers in the oil and then shifted position.

He drew his legs up, and Cailan quickly leaned back so that he had room to work. When he felt knees against his shoulders, he leaned back down just enough to help keep the elf's legs out of the way. He _knew_ this part. He did this frequently enough. Granted, he wasn't fully prepared to glance down and see his partner's fingers disappearing inside of himself, to see the elf moaning, eyes falling closed. He wasn't prepared for the feeling of heels digging into his back slightly as the elf used him for leverage.

Then Lindel was looking back up at him, a _need_ that Cailan recognized in his face as he squirmed just a little. The vial was recorked and tossed aside, forgotten the instant it had completed its purpose. That hand wrapped back around him, positioning him as the elf pressed against him, and Cailan pushed forward. His tip pressed in, and when he saw that Lindel was waiting for him to finish the motion, he drew a deep breath to steady himself and let one of his hands wrap around that thigh pressed so tightly against his chest. He eased forward, filling the elf in one slow and smooth motion.

By the time he was fully inside, there was an _intense_ tightness around him, one that he had not been prepared for. It wasn't like being inside of a woman, all slick silk. This was rougher, tighter, _hotter_. With those fingers digging into his forearms and that voice grating out some of the sexiest pleas he'd ever heard, Cailan didn't really think he was going to be able to last that much longer. He opened eyes that he didn't remember closing, looked down at his companion and withdrew just slightly. The pressure was unbelievable.

His hips shifted forward, and at Lindel's cry, he froze, until those heels begin to press down on his back again. When the elf started moving _under him_, Cailan's breathing hitched and caught, unable to let it go. His own hands pressed into those thighs against him; until he felt one of the elf's hands release his arm, snaking down between them to wrap around his length. The king pushed all the way in then and stayed there for a moment as he watched his partner rock under him, one hand wrapped around his own length as he pushed himself just slightly against his patron. Cailan swallowed, and one of his own hands reached down to link fingers with the elf.

Dark eyes opened in surprise and glanced up at him, and he managed a shy smile before he got the feel for the motions. It wasn't _really_ that different from touching his own, just backwards. The thought sent a tingle down his spine, and then Lindel was _tightening_ around him, and-- Maker's _breath_\-- Cailan couldn't stand it a moment longer. He angled himself carefully, his eyes closing as he began to push in and slide out, finding his rhythm through Lindel's lead. Each time they stroked over the elf's length, Cailan pushed in. When their hands lifted back up, he pulled out.

They built this rhythm faster than the king would normally have done. It was so intense; even being on the side he was normally on, it was different. He was stiffening, his muscles drawing up as he felt himself balancing on the knife's edge, his world drawing close around him until he couldn't feel anything except the elf under him tightening and crying out. Then everything went white, and he surged into the elf roughly, his release an extension of the thrust.

By the time the white faded, he had managed to roll over on his back, letting his companion unfold from the position that had to have been hurting by that point. His eyes were still closed as he folded one arm over his face. Then, he felt his partner moving to escape, and he reached out with his other hand to pull the other man back down into the bed. When he had gotten the elf settled just under his shoulder, that narrow face pressed against his chest, he drew a deep breath and opened his eyes slowly to look at the shadows flickering over the ceiling.

This was something he'd try again. And soon, if the small grin on Lindel's face was any indication.


End file.
